Social Anxiety As Real As it Could Ever Be

I
am the most awkward of awkward. If there were a crowning ceremony for people
who find themself in the most humiliation after every social encounter, I would
own a pretty exorbitantly priced piece of jewelry for the top of my head.

I
recount mortifying stories over and over in my mind, wondering where I went
wrong. I fall asleep going down a list that even predates teenage adolescence.
In the 3rd grade, I walked into the boy’s restroom as my long-time
crush notified me of my mix-up as he was peeing. In the 4th grade I
called my teacher “grandma.”

I
had a noticeable speech impediment growing up that made it almost impossible
for me to properly annunciate the sound of the letter R. Somehow, the speech
impediment metastasized like a cancer and extended to other parts of my speech.
I’ve long since learned how to pronounce an R, but now I add the letter L or R
to random words when I am not paying close enough attention. I’ve essentially
overcorrected the problem. When telling a story, every incorrectly added letter
to a word does not get missed on my bedtime humiliation checklist. “It was just
a litter bit,” repeats over and over in my head like a haunting Gregorian
chant.

One
time, as the result of my irrepressible social ineptitude, I made a server very
uncomfortable. I had joined a dinner party late at a restaurant and the other
guests already knew what they wanted to order. It was all eyes on me and the
pressure was overwhelming. The server walked over to our table and casually
asked me directly, “Do you know what you’d like to order?” That question
solicits a simple yes or no response. Then maybe, maybe in the case that I am ready, it requires a few extra words
that express my dinner selection. That’s it. But I wasn’t ready when she asked.
I panicked. I thought, well, she could come back in a second after I’ve
thoroughly examined all my choices and then she wouldn’t have to wait for me to
mentally go through that process because god knows how long that will take. My
brain fished for the words, “No, sorry, I just need a minute to think it over
please.” Instead, the cacophony of sounds that managed to come out of my mouth was, “No,
can you just go away?”

I’m
not sure why words don’t form outside of my brain the way they were so
carefully constructed originally, but often I find myself cursing my
inexcusable social behavior and my inability to quickly recover from them.

Other things I’ve
said/done in the past or say/do currently that prevent me from sleeping at
night:

1. At work to a customer:
“Do you want your receipt with the bag or in you?”

2.
Along with addressing a teacher by an intimate familial nickname, I’ve also
replaced “goodbye, have a nice summer” with “I love you.”

3.
Every single time in a face-to-face conversation I am telling a story and the
moment I realize the person is making eye contact with me, meaning they’re actually listening, I freeze up and lose
my train of thought effectively losing the other person’s interest and my
entire credibility.

4.
Having to prepare a whole written statement and rehearse it just to make a
phone call. Leaving a message requires even more preparation that includes a
pep talk and a couple of different breathing exercises.

5.
Not being able to ask questions or make an informed/intelligent comment during
class because I hate the sound of my own voice after not speaking for a long
time and because of the idea of having a group of people intently listening to
something I have to say makes my limbs heavy, my heart race, and I get the sudden
urge to be the sole survivor of a plane crash on a deserted island that can’t
be found on maps or by modern technology.

6.
Wondering what kind of judgment is being made about my current selfie as if
hoards of people only get together with the intent to mock me like some kind of
selfie-mock-circle held in a cave dimly lit by candlelight.

7.
Wondering what was meant by literally everything
said to me by a human. Does everything someone says to me have a hidden
meaning? CAN I CRACK IT?

8.
When less than 20 people like anything that I post. Why don’t you like me?

I
can’t seem to get any of it right, not like my more in-tune friends or
coworkers who don’t cringe every time their mouthparts move. I am envious of
their callousness to interactions, their ability to remain calm and collected,
which I perceive to be a gift. I on the other hand, still don’t understand how
to properly react verbally to “What’s up?” when used as a greeting. (Is it
“good” or “nothing” or do you mirror reply with “what’s up” like a question had never been asked?! Nothing logically
makes any sense!) I just can’t be trusted to properly react according to regular social standards.

So,
for instances like these, I’ve had to learn to program certain common expected
responses as to not appear completely socially inept. Like I’m a Sim earning
charisma points, I practice how to effectively speak and communicate my
thoughts and feelings to other humans so I can better human.

I’ve always been more of a writer. When I got in a fight with someone, I
wouldn’t ever verbalize my emotions. Well, I actually couldn’t get any words out because of all
the impending angry crying. Instead, I would send them a letter. With writing,
you get a chance to think about it. Nobody, especially yourself, has to hear
your voice and all your words falling from your mouth. I am my best, scripted
and edited. Calculated and rehearsed. And damn proud of it. So what if every
once in awhile I randomly acquire a stutter or the pause in our conversation
carries on a little too long, my social anxiety gives me some character. I may
be dying on the inside during every social failing, but I might as well rock that humiliation crown.

Let me know some of your humiliating stories
caused by social anxiety in the comments! In the comfort of your Internet, of course.

Social Anxiety As Real As it Could Ever Be
Reviewed by Ariel Sullivan
on
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Rating: 5

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Ariel Reverie

My name is R-E-L and I am not a mermaid. My parents actually claim my name derived from REO Speedwagon and not the Disney movie that predated my birth, but they often like to tell stories. I am a Colorado native who enjoys film, poetry, screenwriting, photography, design, music, and religiously watching an assortment of television series. I am one half of a set of twins and I usually bring that up to make interesting conversation.